The Chief's Daughter - A Zutara Fanfiction
by avatartrash
Summary: After almost a year of traveling with the Avatar, the Gaang is tasked with a new mission: to return home and keep a close watch on the Southern Water Tribe's new prisoner. Zutara!
1. Chapter 1

_A Short Disclaimer: Kinda an alternate storyline. Everyone is two years older than in the original series. Aang was still discovered by Katara and Sokka, but Ozai's defeat has yet to happen. Katara has not traveled around with the rest of the Gaang (reasoning will be revealed later), and Zuko barely knows anyone by name yet. Takes place a little after the Season 2 finale, Crossroads of Destiny, but Katara was not in the catacombs with Zuko. Everything else should be cleared up eventually!_

* * *

 **Spring**

The irony of the whole situation dawned on Zuko as he fidgeted around in the heap of burlap sacs, trying to get comfortable. The metallic walls of the lowest floor of the Fire Nation ship called his name recognizably, but he was much too tired to respond. Memories of the day rolled through his mind as he slipped out of consciousness.

Unlike usual, it was not the sun that woke him, instead a terrible thirst scratched at his throat, and Zuko was forced to rise suddenly. He wasn't disappointed - it would've been stupid to wish for a more elegant alarm - but he was annoyed. Did _none_ of his captors know how to keep a prisoner?

Either way, Zuko hoisted himself to his feet, which he noticed were clan in locked metal boots, and attempted to open the door. This proved difficult, as his hands had a matching pair of locked metal gloves.

After a rough fifteen minutes, and more than a few kicks that were definitely going to leave dents against the door, the Fire Prince had managed to open it to a point where he could squeeze through. Lucky for him, he noted, a few lanterns were lit down the long hallway, and there was just enough light for him to stumble down the passage.

Climbing the staircase, Zuko instantly made his way over to the galley, ignoring the clambering sound his footwear made. He grabbed for a loaf of bread and held out his hand to toast it before realizing his incapability to do so.

"You know this ship like the back of your hand," a low voice said from somewhere behind him.

Zuko, not bothering to turn around, snickered, "All Fire Nation ships were designed by my family. It would be dishonorable if I didn't."

"Having some trouble with toasting that bread there?" The voice pressed, matching his snarky tone.

"I'd be toasting you for dinner right now if it weren't for these cuffs."

Zuko was jolted with the sudden feeling of an arm around his neck, coupled with the cold edge of a knife. "My father wanted you alive," the voice snarled. "If it were up to me, your body would be rotting at the bottom of the ocean right now, severed head hammered above my fireplace back home."

Zuko laughed at the threat, although his forehead had begun to glisten with a layer of sweat, "Tell your father his kidnapping squad needs some work. You don't scare me."

"You're one to talk, Prince. You've been trying to capture the Avatar for a year, and look where that's got you."

His hold on Zuko's neck got tighter, and the prisoner failed at holding back a cough, "Let go of me."

"Address me as Warrior Sokka."

"Let," Zuko stammered, having trouble finding his breath, "go of me."

"Ask nicely."

"Please," the Prince begged, his vision becoming blurry, "let go of me, Warrior Sokka."

Sokka released him at once, walking steadily away from the scene. Zuko leaned over the counter, stabilizing himself against it as he heaved for air.

After he'd collected himself, the Prince stuffed the loaf of bread in his mouth, cupping his hands in order to drink from the sink. The water, or perhaps the metal of his gloves, left a lingering taste of rust in his mouth. Zuko coughed again, bringing a hand up to massage his throat. A shiver ran down his spine while the sound of Sokka's distant stomping echoed in his ears.

"Fucking savages."

* * *

For the most part, the rest of Zuko's day was uneventful; he wandered around the second and third tiers of the ship, took a nap, and failed at prying the metal caskets off his limbs. Shockingly, he felt a certain comfort aboard the ship, surrounded by his "mysterious" captors (a group of teenagers, he'd observed, that were oddly familiar to him). There was a level of nonchalance that had crept its way over the Prince's achy body as he stirred from his mid-afternoon nap. His sleeping conditions were far less than ideal, to say the least, but they left him with plenty of time to think.

And think he did. It felt good, almost relieving, being the victim for once. Zuko had recently underwent some deep seated guilt, what with his uncle and all. He didn't like to think about it much.

A knocking startled Zuko, and he stood up as his visitor stepped inside.

"Follow me," Sokka ordered, and Zuko only grunted in response.

They made their way up to the deck of the ship, and Zuko saw the light of day for the first time since his capture. He was taken aback for a second at his surroundings; vast arrays of icebergs as far as the eye could see. It was nearing dusk, and the sun reflected brightly off each icecap.

Sokka had disappeared somewhere into what seemed like the captain quarter's, so Zuko took it as his chance to take in the environment. He leaned against the port-side of the metallic vessel. No stranger to life at sea, he had to admit how much he'd missed it. Traveling by foot, be it in the Earth Kingdom or as the Blue Spirit, or as Prince back home had gotten old quite quickly. He sighed deeply.

"You seem content," a voice, this time feminine, said.

Zuko spun around, "The sun feels nice." She looked familiar, the woman, with short brown hair and painted lips. Dressed in all black, much like Sokka, she appeared more like a spy than she acted.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Not a clue," Zuko said, matter-of-factly. Her gaze penetrated him, and he insisted to himself that the shiver running down his spine was because of the chilly air.

"Does the name Suki ring a bell?"

Zuko's mind raced for a second, but he responded roughly, "No."

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but shook her head instead. Zuko turned back towards the water, and the two were silent for a few minutes, until Sokka arrived.

"We are taking you to the Southern Water Tribe," he said, standing next to her.

"Yea," Zuko faced them, "no shit. I've been here before."

"Obviously," Sokka rolled his eyes, "that's where we first met."

Zuko squinted for a moment, and then a realization hit him; his captors were no strangers.

Suki cleared her throat, "Under the chief's orders, we've allowed you to roam free upon the boat."

"Not too free, of course," Sokka added. "The gloves and boots prevent you from bending at us."

"I can breathe fire, you know?" Okay, so this wasn't exactly truthful, but Zuko was working on it. "My Uncle's the Dragon of the West."

"Well, we weren't going to gag you," Sokka laughed, pinching the girl's arm. Zuko almost threw up. Stupid horny teenagers.

The girl blushed, punching her companion in the arm, "Though we did consider it."

"So, you trust that I won't try to escape?" Zuko asked, drily.

"We just know you wouldn't be able to," said Suki, crossing her arms as if to test him.

"Oh, really? Would the great Warrior Sokka stop me?"

Suki stifled a laugh, holding her head in her hand, " _That's_ the 'totally sick' nickname you came up with? It doesn't even have a ring to it!"

"I liked it!" Sokka's eyes widened in embarrassment, "Plus, who says I _wouldn't_ stop him _,_ huh?"

Zuko allowed the two to bicker for a few moments, turning around yet again to get a look at the view. It wasn't that he minded too much being a prisoner, it was more that he felt like he was running out of time. A week ago he had fled the palace, ashamed in knowing that the Avatar was _not_ dead, like his father thought, and that his Uncle wanted nothing to do with him. He had come to a crossroads in his life, a personal war taking place deep inside him. This particular war, a battle of morals, he wanted nothing to do with. Zuko, in fact, had been completely ignoring it. This, clearly, had failed, instead consuming his every thought, which was probably why he'd been kidnapped in the first place.

He thought back to the day before, after he had attempted to hide out at a marketplace in Caldera. Trying to conceal his identity, he claimed to be a simple Earth Bending merchant, leaving him useless when he was attacked. Thinking it a simple mugging, he hadn't retaliated with a fire punch or two, and was shocked at the feeling of a bottle slammed against his head.

Hours later, he awoke aboard his _own_ family's ship. Quite an eventful day

The Prince turned back around, ready to taunt his captors once more. "Are you two done squabbling?" He said, his voice tinged with its usual annoyance.

"Spirits, you really are a whiner," _another_ unfamiliar voice said.

"In Vaatu's name, how many of there are you?" Sokka and Suki had disappeared, leaving him with a girl of much younger age, with straight black hair and the palest gray eyes.

"Just three on board," the younger girl explained. "We're with the Avatar."

Zuko's brow furrowed, and he spit, "Where is he?"

" _And_ you're just as angry as your reputation?" The girl laughed, tossing her head back. "You really are a legend, Sparky."

The Prince became infuriated, lunging at her in an attempt to strangle the information from her throat. But, before he had the chance to even make it a foot ahead of him, Zuko crashed straight into a wall of metal. He was shocked, watching the girl in awe as she returned the metal floorboard to its place on the deck. Grunting, he looked at his locked hands and feet, realizing that there was no chance of escaping.

"My name's Toph," the girl said, reaching her hand out. "I have a feeling we're gonna get along."

Begrudgingly, he returned the handshake, narrowing his eyes at the small girl, "I'm Zuko."

Toph nodded, turning away to join Sokka and Suki at the stern. With an air of exasperation, Zuko huffed, bringing a metal fist down on the side of the ship.

Encompassed by a foreign element, without a single friend or relative in site, Zuko felt unusually alone. He had found no welcome at home, was unhappy with a simple Earth Kingdom life, and, now, fighting alongside the Avatar looked bleak as well.

As he sulked, prisoner on his own ship, the Fire Prince was left with a single question: where did he truly belong?

* * *

I'll try updating as much as possible if people want to read more, depending on feedback!


	2. Chapter 2

_Author Note: To the four people that reviewed, this chapter is dedicated to_ _you_ _. Reviews are the only way I know if you guys like what I'm writing and how I can improve and edit, plus they make me want to update faster and more often! I'll be responding to any criticism/compliments/questions/suggestions I find interesting in my author's notes, so please feel free to share your opinions. stordec23 and deannabear Thank you, lovely people! You make me want to continue write stories!_

 _Without further ado, though, prepare for some awkward Zuko and slight lemons (we're only starting out, don't worry)._

* * *

Time seemed to move in slow motion for Zuko over the course of the next three or so weeks. His routine remained the same - sleep in, stuff his face with dried fruits and stale bread, goggle at the passing masses of ice - but soon he became unbearably bored. The only spark of difference in his schedule was dinner. Each night, the prisoner was forced to eat alongside the crew members and his teenage captors. This would have been substantially less dull if he hadn't refused to stay quiet and brooding in the corner, snarling at anyone who ventured to include him in conversation.

The food, he had to confess, was some of the best he'd ever tasted. Breakfast and lunch were bland and downright unsanitary, but supper was always prepared with apparent care and effort. On top of this, most of the flavors were of animals, vegetables and fruits he'd never tasted before. Seaweed, seal jerky, arctic hen, sea prune stew, pickled fish, and an overwhelmingly sugary dessert called cotton candy danced through his mind much after he left the dinner table.

Yet, being the rather hard-headed person Zuko was, he preferred not voicing this opinion, pretending to be blatantly disgusted with each bite of food he took, and secretly saving his leftovers in a burlap sac taken from his resting area.

These burlap sacs, actually, had manifested themselves particularly useful for the Prince. Since he couldn't stuff them with dirty clothing in order to create a pillow (a trick Iroh taught him back when they were on their own), he settled with simply stuffing a sac with a bunch of smaller sized sacs. Not as comfortable, but still useful.

Therefore, when Suki and Sokka had barged into his room, demanding him to hand over the sacs, Zuko was rather disappointed.

"We need at least ten," Suki explained, hands on her hips. "Shore's coming into sight, so we're starting to pack up."

Zuko stared, blankly. "Do you have to?"

Sokka scoffed, taunting him, "Guess, the Prince doesn't seem too tough now, huh?"

"Fine, take them, for Angi's sake," Zuko threw a handful at the two. "I don't care."

His kidnappers retreated, leaving the door open and giggling as they walked away. With nothing else to do, Zuko decided to trail them, taking the steps up to the second tier. He wandered past the galley and into the main saloon, eyeing the crew members. There were four or five men, all around Zuko's age or older, sitting together at a table, munching on nuts or clinking banana beer bottles while sorting out decks of cards.

His fists clenched at the feeling of several pairs of hateful eyes on him, wishing he could yell, but not knowing exactly which words to say. To threaten them? To apologize? Zuko suddenly felt very seasick, overwhelmed with the desire to vomit.

That dissipated quickly, though, as a familiar smell attracted the Prince's attention.

"Fire," he whispered to himself, pushing through a metal door to the secondary saloon.

Inside, Toph sat facing the other way, arm around an even smaller child.

"Hey, Sparky," she said, still facing the fire pit.

The Prince walked past the two, sitting down on the other side of the flames, "Uh, hi. How could you tell it was me?" He decided to swallow his pride about the nickname, automatically knowing she had been referring to him.

"I'm blind," the earthbender explained. "I sense vibrations with my feet, that's how I see."

"Oh," Zuko said. "That's actually pretty cool."

"Yea, I know."

Zuko breathed in, the temperature of the room increasing slightly, and the heat licking at his skin. With the fire so close to him, he could feel a warmth pumping through his veins, dying to be released. The smell of ash filled his nostrils, and as he sighed slowly, trying to relieve the pressure building up inside him, a stream of smoke exited his mouth.

Shaking his head, he distracted himself with conversation, "Who's he?" A boy, no older than five, rested on Toph's shoulder. He was not wearing black, like the rest of his companions, but was dressed in tattered Earth Kingdom robes similar to the ones Zuko had worn back in Ba Sing Se.

"This is Bhudev, or Bhu. His brother, Teo, is one of our close friends. We're bringing him here for healing," Toph cupped two hands around Bhu's ears, even though the boy already appeared to be sleeping. "He's very sick."

"Healing?"

"Sokka's sister, you know her, is a healer. A real Sugar Queen. We traveled with her for about a month, earlier this year."

He raked his mind, thinking back to all the times he'd attacked the Avatar, and trying to remember the companions that had helped him. No particular faces came to mind, though a throbbing began in his temple, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Insisting it was because of the tempting flames, he pushed the idea of the Avatar and his friends to the back of his mind, redirecting the conversation, "I'm gonna die if you don't let me firebend."

Just then, a long horn sounded, startling the firebender into standing up, and the little boy to jut awake.

Toph lifted the child into her arms, wrapping his legs around her skinny hips, "You'll survive."

* * *

Land was glorious, to say the least, and Zuko almost collapsed to his knees in happiness. Sure, he loved the sea, but to be out of that stuffy storage room and free of his annoyingly chummy escorts was alleviating.

Plus, the restraints would be off soon.

Immediately, he was ushered off in this direction or that by two steely faced guards, muscles bulging through twin, tight-fitting light blue shirts. On their biceps, over their clothing, were differently decorated bands. Zuko would've had more time to notice the outfits had he not been pushed, inelegantly, in front of them.

"These are your quarters," a taller guard, his beard slightly longer, said.

"Your stuff will be over before nightfall," the other, his voice deeper, his face freshly shaved, added on.

They each had an intricately designed hair ornament; one a tying band, the other two smaller beads.

"Uh, thanks, guys," Zuko's eye twitched from awkwardness. He wondered, even if he was a prisoner, if he was supposed to express gratitude to the guards. Once he became, or rather _if,_ he ever became Fire Lord, the thanking of servants and whatnot would be unacceptable, as it was frowned upon as a sign of a weak leader.

Shrugging to himself, the Prince opened the slit to his tent, entering hesitantly. He was shocked.

This place was huge.

It occurred to Zuko, then, that perhaps he was the Southern Water Tribe's _first_ prisoner. No…he couldn't be. Could he? The obviously inexperienced captors, the "jail cell" assigned to him, even the handcrafted cuffs all pointed to that conclusion.

Either way, it was of no importance to the Prince as he took in his surroundings. This first room, much bigger than his room on the ship, appeared to be the living room. An animal-hide rug lay in the center, atop the stone floor. A leather couch was placed halfway over it, facing an empty fireplace.

"It's freezing in here," he said to himself, scowling at the captivating log encased in stone. Agni, how he missed bending.

Through a crack in a curtain on the other side of the room, Zuko entered a horizontal hallway, four doors peering back at him.

The first room, all the way to the left, was a kitchen with a tiny boiler and a seating area. Again, he paused while glancing over at the wood inside the cauldron.

The second room, second to the left, was his bathroom. A large bucket filled with water sat all the way to the side, another animal-hide rug in the center of the room, and a toilet to the other side.

A curtain from the bathroom connecting to a bedroom, which he assumed was his, allowed him to slip into the third room. His bed was grand. Granted, not as big as his own back at home, but anything seemed like treasure in comparison to his prior sleeping arrangements.

He decided the fourth room could wait when he realized how badly his bladder needed him. Lunging through the adjoining curtain, he relieved himself quickly, and then began to retie his pants.

Suddenly, though, he remembered a solemn fact; it had been almost a month since he had had any "intimate" time with himself. Sure, the room had provided some solitude, but the result of actually _trying_ anything would be deeply painful.

Regardless, he hardened slightly at the recollection of the few weeks he'd been in the Fire Nation. Mai had…welcomed him…very nicely. However, the conversation that had taken place afterward still left him with a hollow feeling in his gut.

Yet, he assumed it had to have happened at some point.

Brought back to reality by the shiver that ran down his spine due to the chill, he returned his member to its 'rightful place on the throne' ( _yuck,_ he noted), and entered his room once again. Up against the wall by the entrance was a mirror, and he quietly looked at himself in it.

His typical casual pants, tight at the waistband and the place they ended just below the knee, but loose everywhere else, had dirtied tremendously on the trip. This, of course, wasn't a new feeling to the banished, at one point bountied, Prince. His street shirt, fortunately long sleeved, with a slight v-cut in the middle, criss-crossed over his muscular torso.

On his feet, the rusting metal boots were the coldest part of his body, followed suit by his gloves.

This was what it felt to be a prisoner. His lip curled in humiliation. In a fit of rage, he lifted a fist over his head, ready to shatter the reflection to pieces, but a magnetism instantaneously called him to the living room.

Almost breaking out into a sprint, Zuko's entire body seethed in desire. Each nerve was piqued, and a deep sweat began to soak his lower back.

Firebending, he had studied in school, was a physical art engaged by an inner spark. The flame was felt from within, and released from different parts of the body at various level of energy. At a certain level, a bender learned to manipulate already existing blaze, and eventually degrees of heat. In spite of the fact that he was aware that other elements were controlled differently, he had not wondered specifically how until that very moment.

"Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation…"

He preferred Fire Prince Zuko, but whatever.

"We have delivered most of your things, feel free to rearrange at your own will. If you would like us to retrieve the rest of your possessions, do not hesitate to ask," the guard from earlier said, in a serious tone. "Dinner is in less than an hour's time, do not be late."

He looked around, immediately recognizing some of his personal belongings. Before being able to formulate a response, his senses were drawn to the crackling of the fire. It took all his willpower to restrain from dipping his gloved hand in it.

The two guards silently turned to leave (without bowing, Zuko noticed, infuriated), and the Prince held up a gloved hand to stop them.

The guards immediately reached for their belts, hands on their respective boomerangs.

Zuko lowered his arm, eyes widening, "No, I didn't mean that." His voice was soft, and he was slightly embarrassed because of that. Agni, how hard was it to sound aggressive? He cleared his throat, "I demand to know where you found these things, as I did not bring them onto the ship myself."

The taller guard met eyes with his partner, relaxing back into his regular stance, "Chief Hakoda said nothing against mentioning that."

The other titled his head, reassuringly.

"Your Uncle, General Iroh, requested the ship be stopped at a dock at the edge of your nation. We complied, and his servants loaded the cabins with your things."

Zuko had been staring at the charring log, but was suddenly brought to attention. His brows lowered, and an anger crept onto his skin, "My uncle…knows I'm here?"

The guards hesitated, but nodded slightly.

His anger rose with the flames of the fire, nostrils flaring, "You intend to tell me my uncle, General Iroh, is aware that I am prisoner in the Southern Water Tribe?"

Again, the guards nodded slightly, hands returning to their boomerangs.

With an extended growl, loud enough that even Iroh may have heard, the Prince turned, the flames extending dangerously close to the floor, following Zuko's movement, "I command to be left alone at once. I will be at dinner when is time."

The guards eyed the fire, a look of unease upon their faces, but left the room without a fight. This time, to Zuko's secret enjoyment, they had bowed their heads.

After a while of organization - there wasn't much, just the basic necessities and a few accents, but he movement was slow - Zuko dug into his clothing case. Pulling out his warmest clothing, which was a similar-styled pair of slightly longer pants and his wrapped tunic with a royal yellow collar, he collapsed onto the couch, facing the fire.

He breathed in time with the life of the flames, each crack of the wood sending an electric shock from his chest to different parts of his body.

Particularly, the hardened organ residing in his trousers.

Curse the Spirits for the heat's control of his body. Regularly, if he had not alleviated himself in a month, a bare thigh or lick of lips may set him off. But without firebending _and_ masturbation, it was not solely attractive women that turned him on, it was anything having to do with a flame.

He dragged a gloved hand over the tent in his pants, throwing his head back against the cushions. Agni, he would deal with the pain of metal, he just needed to cum.

However, his sensual plans were cut short by the tolling of a bell. Dinner was ready, and he had promised not to be late.

Although compromised in almost all other moral senses, Zuko never broke a promise. Ever.

* * *

Dinner, he soon registered, was special tonight, though he didn't know why. Shuffling through a much larger tent than his own, Zuko took in the scene of a magnificent feast.

A large tear shaped oval, made completely of ice, was being filled by citizen after citizen. The rounded side, he assumed, was for the villagers. While the Chief and his family sat closer to the point.

Idling in the midst of the thinning crowd, Zuko honestly had no clue where to go. This had to be, although he had no prior knowledge, the strangest kidnapping case to have ever existed. It was as if he was expected to know the customs of this distant land.

When he was the last standing, glancing quickly in all directions, trying to beg someone for guidance with his eyes, he was jolted with a hand upon his back.

Startled, Zuko looked wildly over his shoulder, and met a pair of penetrating blue eyes.

It was Sokka. "Follow me," he motioned upwards, his stare stern. "You're eating with us."

They began walking, the Water Tribe man leading the Fire Nation one closer to their seats. All at once, though, the former stopped short.

Zuko began to question, but a firm hush from the other man shut him up.

All attention, including the young Prince's, turned upwards to a man standing in the center. Zuko eyes traced, involuntarily, from the shaggy hair atop the man's head, held back in a tail, with two beaded strands held on the side, to his unkempt beard, the pendant that lay around his neck, to his wide shoulders, and, finally, muscular arms; one in the air, holding a goblet of ice.

The Chief.

"My brothers and sisters of the Southern Water Tribe and elsewear," Hakoda spoke, his voice intoxicatingly steady, "we join together to celebrate a glorious day." He paused for effect, swiping his eyes across the entire room. "It is no coincidence that tonight be a full moon, Yue is watching down upon us."

At the mention of this "Yue," Zuko heard Sokka sigh softly beside him.

"May we now honor the sixteenth birthday of my beloved daughter, Katara of the Water Tribe."

Behind the Chief entered a young woman. He felt his body react to her appearance, blood flowing to a certain organ, and before he could react, she queued for the candle lamps to be lit aflame.

And then, Zuko fainted.

There was an audible gasp heard from multiple members of the tribe, but Toph was the only one that spoke.

"Wow, I guess it really _did_ kill him."

* * *

 _Author's Note: I'll be updating the next chapter when I get five more reviews! I really love writing this story, but I'm really encouraged when I know you guys like it, too! Up next - Zuko meets his healer (; , heated dinner conversations, a night spent alone (full on lemons! be warned), and the rules of captivity in the Southern Water Tribe. Thank you, faithful readers!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Hi! Sorry it's taken me a little while to update, I haven't had wifi for almost a week because of traveling! To make up for it, here's an extra long and extraaaaaa smutty chapter.  
_

 _Before I start, though, I'd like to thank all my reviewers from last chapter! 10 reviews, whipee! You guys are great._

 _Zorofanboy pointed out that it's a bit odd that Zuko's being treated so nicely. It's a fair observation, and I wanted to clear it up this chapter, but it ran too long and I was itching to get to the lemony part (I know, sue me). The suspense of all the reasoning will build up more next chapter, when Zuko gets up close and personal with Hakoda (swoon). But...to give you a hint...Iroh does play a small (or maybe not small, who knows?) roll in Zuko's prison conditions...Read and find out!_

 _Again, thank you to all the reviews. I encourage you to write a comment, too, so I can know what parts you enjoyed/what I can work on!_

* * *

Zuko gasped as two gloved hands pressed down on his bare chest. The fur was warm against his cold skin, and a shiver ran down his spine, forcing him to remove his back from the cold stone slab where he laid. Immediately, his lower regions stirred, and he felt his face flush at the thought of the healer noticing this.

In a moment, there was a wet towel placed upon his forehead, and he shot up and the sudden contact.

He was in a tent, two pools of water on either of his sides. To his right was a woman of Water Tribe origin; piercing blue eyes, hair tied back and beaded, wrapped in a fur blue coat.

She was also, he observed embarrassingly, at least sixty years his senior.

"You ruined my granddaughter's birthday," she removed the cloth from his forehead, wringing it out into a small bucket. "But that must seem like second nature to you."

"Crashing parties?" he retorted, dryly.

"Messing things up for Katara."

Zuko shot her a look, "Who _are_ you?"

The elder simply shook her head, laughing under her breath. She looked stunningly like the birthday girl; wide spread eyes, a flat nose, and full lips, even in her old age. Recollecting the memory of Katara brought his attention downward, to the situation that was still prominent between his legs.

"My grandchildren's friend, the little earthbending girl, was the one that brought you here," the woman trotted over to a table, a hand on her chin as she considered each herb in her palm before adding them to a mix in a molcajete. "She also asked quite a few questions about the 'log' in your harem pants."

Zuko's cheeks turned the color of a cherry, eyes darting from the woman's face to his trousers to roof.

Above, he noticed, was a sky window. "The night is, uh, dark, huh?" He attempted to change the subject.

"I've already had to explain the seals and the sea sponges to my son and his kids, as well. I think I've run my course with that conversation."

Clearing his throat, the firebender bowed his head, "Um, thanks for helping me." He jumped down, reacting with a few violent hops and a yelp as his feet adjusted to the cold floor. To his delight, the cuffs had disappeared, all that was left in their wake were throbbing imprints around his ankles, wrists, and the tips of his fingers and toes.

"There is a change of clothing in your cabin, next door," it dawned on Zuko then that this healing station was the fourth room he had missed from before. "But, Prince Zuko, do remember that, regardless of how you are treated, you are a _prisoner_ of my son's tribe." Her fur boots shuffled, a rasping sound coming from the floor each inch she moved. Lips drawn in a thin line, one of her fingers pointed steadily, like a thrumming drum, against his chest, "And therefore you are my prisoner, too. Do _not_ push your boundaries."

Zuko's eyes widened, mouth gaping open slightly in silent terms of recognition, as he nodded in quick bursts at each emphasized word.

"If you wish to join us again for dinner," a smile grew on her face, and Zuko turned his head in question at her unexpected kindness, "I expect no more interruptions."

"Sure, yes," he bowed, backing slowly to the curtain, and slipped underneath it in a second.

The bed creaked under the weight of his backside, sighing with him as he exhaled. Once he was sure he had heard the old woman exit the room next door, he stuffed his hands in his pants.

His breath was hot, neck tilted upwards, eyes shut, as he gripped his base with a full fist. Pumping with one hand at a tantalizingly slow pace, arm barely moving, he recalled past experiences with Mai.

Porcelain skin, manicured nails dragged across his back, smooth legs wrapped around his narrow waist. She smelled of rose pedals, he recalled, and the dullness of her voice dissipated each time they had shared an intimate moment. That liveliness, he realized, was what he missed most.

A gust, like the breeze through a collection of bamboo or the unraveling of a scroll, woke him from his lusty dreams. In shock, his fist tightened around his member, and he grunted in response.

"There are ties on these doors," the senior woman crossed her arms, holding an elbow in each hand. "Use them to lock."

She retreated, leisurely, as if she had had this experience more than once before.

Zuko gaped, his hand still wrapped tightly around his erection, the rest of his body frozen, "What in Agni's name is wrong with these people?"

* * *

Hunger was something Zuko, after months of scavenging for scraps and berries, had learned to deal with. Figuring that this was just another missed meal, he began wandering the twists and turns of the insipid ice village.

Around a bend, Zuko hobbled upon a vacant passageway. He squatted, the ice inclement and uninviting, and once again grappled with a tint of longing for a place he could call home.

Earlier in his journey, he found himself gawking at a particular tent. After circling it a few times - poking the intricate designs surrounding the openings and tugging on the handwoven accents that dangled off the sides - Zuko analyzed that this abode must belong to Chief Hakoda. Resisting the urge to clear the flap, enter, and take a peak around, the Prince forced himself to continue meandering through the winding trails.

Now, in seclusion, reviewing the snow barricade that enclosed the village, Zuko sat; knees tucked close to his chest for warmth, hands atop them, palms upwards. From them came a soft glow, the first time he had bent in a month, and his head drooped forwards in satisfaction, the strain alleviated from his distressed body like a healer ridding a diseased person of illness.

"By Yue, what do you think you're doing?"

Spirits, were _all_ of these people insufferably nosy?

"Minding my own business," he sneered, eye twitching in frustration. "Which, with your atrocious actions so far, must be unimaginable to you."

"Oo, a burn from the Fire Prince," as the man from which the voice came stepped closer, his figure was illuminated by the flames. Zuko could not, for the life of him, identify the Water Tribe citizen, and was taken aback by how quickly he had recognized the Fire Prince.

Identification, in it of itself, ticked Zuko off. After having been chased, and considered a vigilante for a little under half a year, encounters like these made his blood run thin. Yet, after having switched into an itchy kimono-like tunic (similar to his own) over a pair of leggings, and a thick coat with a blotch staining one side, all a faded blue color, he had hoped to be seemingly disguised.

Giving up red was tough, after all.

The firebender stood, stepping towards the stranger after dissipating the fire in his palms, "I wasn't even doing anything wrong, and I'm exhausted with uncivilized people being overly aggressive. So, get out of my way." Zuko held his hands out, pushing on the other man's shoulders.

"I wouldn't advise that," wrapping around the stranger's arms was a whip of water.

Considering the environment around them, Zuko retreated with a curl of his lip, "A waterbender."

"A master waterbender, actually," the man corrected, teeth flashing while he grinned. Zuko rolled his eyes, tempted to make a joke about modesty, but deciding otherwise. "From the North." He reached his arm out, grabbing the Prince by his elbow, the former copying the movement. "My name is A'anik."

"Zuko," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, his jaw straining. "You, uh, you already know that."

A'anik's brow lowered, his head tilting in judgement, "We should get back to dinner."

* * *

Entering the feast a second time was significantly easier for Zuko, especially with A'anik by his side. The two made their way to the back of the hall, deciding on two empty spaces to Sokka's left.

To the Fire Prince's surprise, the warrior insisted that Zuko take a seat as his neighbor. Inferring that this was because Sokka was seeking to keep an eye on him, the firebender knew better than to protest, and therefore hurt the other man's ego.

"Good to see you've both decided to join us," Hakoda eyed the two guests before adding, "Princes."

Zuko peered to his right, taking a second to choose his words, "You hadn't mentioned your royalty."

"I usually don't have to," A'anik jeered, another grin plastered on his face. "Especially to someone of matching status."

The rest of the visitors' eyes darted around the scene, unknowing of how to clear the uncomfortable air. Sokka cleared his throat, "If I may voice on behalf of the Southern Water Tribe in its entirety, I am thankful to have all our guests here, including our first invitee from the Fire Nation. Do I express this gratitude correctly, Father?"

The Chief nodded his head before Zuko had a chance to butt in. Had Sokka said "invitee"?

"Oh, thank you, great Warrior Sokka," Toph taunted from the opposite side of the dining area.

"Suki," fiddling with his napkin, Sokka eyed her, "you didn't have to tell _Toph_ about my nickname. Which, by the way, is a totally cool thing to request to be called."

Suki pursued her lips at her boyfriend mockingly.

From behind Hakoda came the clearing of a throat, and all eyes turned to the old woman Zuko had the encounter with earlier, "As my dear grandson has announced, the elders visiting from the North and myself are enraptured to have you all here. Why doesn't our first time visitor introduce himself?" She smiled warmly at Zuko, and he blushed when every head turned to him.

"Um, I'm Zuko," he intertwined his hands in his lap, looking at each individual face. "I'm from the Fire Nation."

"And you're a pretty crappy guy."

To Zuko's surprise, the words came not from Sokka, but from the birthday girl herself. Her fists were clenched by each side of her plate, brows furrowed as she glared at him.

Embarrassingly, the slight blush in her cheeks from speaking out and the determination in her enchanting blue eyes affected Zuko in a place he would have rather not focused on. He readjusted his napkin carefully, and attempted to clear his head with a cough.

After doing so, the discourteous nature of her remark sunk in, and his hands heated threateningly in response; it would take a day or so for his firebending to return to usual.

Even so, it was A'anik who spoke up first, "Now, Princess Katara, that is no way to treat your guests."

Across the table, an older man with a striking resemblance to the Northern Water Tribe Prince spoke up, "My son is right. I am disappointed in the ways you have raised your daughter, Chief Hakoda."

To his left, Zuko felt Sokka go rigid, cursing under his breath.

"My apologies, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation," Katara attempted a smile, but her eyes still flamed with indignation. "It is not proper that I allow resolved anger to inconvenience me. And Chief Arnook, I must insist that my father has no component in my emotional extremes, as he encourages only sensibility and tranquility on my part."

"Your assertion is very poignant, Princess," although addressing Katara, Chief Arnook spoke to Hakoda, a stern look upon his face. "And you, Prince Zuko, you gift forgiveness to the Princess?"

Choking on a bite of arctic hen, Zuko thumped on his chest before swallowing, "Me? I guess, uh, yes, yes. I accept her, erm, Princess Katara's many apologies with an…open heart and mind."

Zuko blinked, the table silent before the old woman nodded her head, clapping subtly, the sound muffled by her gloves. In response, both Chiefs and their sons did the same.

* * *

Fleeing wasn't exactly how he would have described it. He _had_ fled before, multiple times in his life; from fights with Azula where he'd previously been unprepared, or arguments with Mai that he felt himself about to teeter into. The way he exited the dining room, though, could have been coined at least a "hasty retreat."

In spite of the fact that he didn't get lost on his way back to his cabin, Zuko decided it was best to take the longer route to his place of stay. The winding turns seemed inviting to him, as it was silent after everyone else had retired back home. Nipping at his nose, a frigid breeze blew through an alleyway, dimming the lantern hanging from a wall of ice. He bent a flame, half for light and half for warmth, and continued on his tread.

A few paces down, disguised by the dark, came the scurry of feet. The firebender took a defensive stance, his knees somewhat squatting and hands held in a claw-like fashion.

"Hello?" The echo of his whisper carried through the streets, and Zuko registered how dumb he must have looked. To be frightful of a simple sound, most likely from an animal, was much unlike the Prince, and did not represent his nation well.

Proceeding on his stroll, Zuko stopped short, peering down at the ice just below his boots. There was a small, almost minuscule crack adorning the ground that drew his attention. He bent down, one knee miserably cold and dampened immediately, the other used to prop an arm up. Curiously, he dragged a glove from the thin beginning of the rupture to the thicker, deeper end.

His virtue made him feel inclined to warn someone, to find the Chief or Sokka and point heroically at his discovery, as he supposed it could possibly cause danger.

Instead, he was startled backwards, landing on his butt, at the sudden sound of cracking, paired with a pained grunt. Zuko bolted, heading towards the source of the noise. Around the bend was a shadowed figure, doubled over in suffering, arms taut and curled at the fingers.

"What in Agni's name are you doing?" He snarled, nose scrunching, steam threatening to surge from his nostrils. Lighting a flame with his pinkie, he held a fisted hand behind his back, ready to attack incase the silhouette became aggressive.

In front of him stood a woman. Long skirt puffing in the wind, blustering around like the waves during a tropical storm, or the flitter of a flutter bat. Her eyes surged from their sockets, jaw locked in frustration.

"I'm trying to kill you!" He gaped at her response. It was the Princess, ready to lash out at him again, this time attempting to strangle him with waterbending. "Or at least…seriously harm you!"

One of Zuko's brows raised, a disbelieving smile forming across his face. "What?"

Katara dropped her stance, and whimpered as she relaxed. Looking upwards, though, her eyes still blazed with inferno. "Don't laugh at me!" She surged forward, thrusting the side of her body into his.

"Okay, okay! Calm down," he stepped aside smoothly, one leg withdrawing behind the other. "What do you have against me, anyway?"

Suddenly, the Princess furrowed her brows, teeth gritted with a growl, and face contorted in pure wrath. "You don't know who I _am_?" With a final jab, her body lunging at him, veins bursting from her arms, knuckles turned white, she proclaimed, "I'll make you remember."

He attempted to hold his arms up in defense, but felt at once that it was impossible to proceed with that. In agony, he winced, a hiss coming from his numbing mouth, as his blood began to clot, forming tumor-like mounds atop his skin. Katara stepped towards him, pushing him backwards, towards a wall of ice.

With a grunt, his back struck the mass, the air knocked from his lungs. Zuko concluded that this was it. He was going to die at the hands of a psychopath; one moment faint and dainty, the next bloodthirsty and cruel.

His expression shifted, rapidly, from brows furrowed in resentment, to mouth wide and trembling in silent pleads.

But as she looked up, face stricken with trepidation, tears flowing from her eyes, gasping with heavy sobs, he discerned something. Perhaps this was not commonplace for her.

With a bitter cry, Katara collapsed to the ice, bringing Zuko down with her.

The Prince's lower regions noticed that her breasts, supple and pillowy, had landed upon his upturned hand. Once his brain caught up to the firm, heated organ pressing against his inner thigh, dangerously close to her exposed belly, Zuko staggered away from under her, falling back onto an outstretched arm.

Hollering at the popping sound his elbow made, the firebender clasped his right arm, body tensing into a crescent moon shape. After a minute of squeezing his eyes shut, face pressed into his shoulder, biting at his robe to mute a scream, he recognized that he was, yet again, alone.

* * *

It was Suki who found him, thankfully, and not a guard or random passerby.

"What happened?" She asked, more out of petty inquisitiveness than care. Her brows were furrowed, lip bitten in hasty concentration as she wrapped bandage after bandage around his limb. "Did you have a nasty fall?"

From a room through a curtain came the whine of Sokka's voice, the tone teasingly sweet. " _Suki_ ," he emphasized the last vowel, an affectionate ring echoing through the living room, "come back to bed! Oh, and bring chocolates from the dessert box. I'm starving."

The two ignored him, and Zuko considered her last statement. After he performed a quick calculation in his mind, he shrugged, "Yea, guess I'm just not used to the icy terrain."

"Spirits," Suki pulled on the wrapping, smirking at his wince. With her teeth, she ripped the binding, at last satisfied with her work, "I'm shocked I ever found you threatening."

"Save it," putting pressure on his opposite arm, he lifted himself from the cot that was laid in the center of the room. Walking towards the exit, Zuko stopped at the flap of the tent, dragging it open until a sliver of darkness was revealed, and turned his head so only his scar was visible. "You have every reason to be afraid of me."

* * *

He was exhausted.

A bunk had never felt so comfortable to the Prince. Even his curtained bed back in the palace - fluffed, drowned with pillows, his favorite shade of red - or his royal berth, rocking him gently to sleep, couldn't compare to the coziness of the stacked furs.

Zuko was content, to say the least, with simply relaxing into well deserved slumber. Yet, from the recollection of the days' events, it felt blasphemous to ignore the distracting complication coming from below.

After lighting the furnace and the fireplace, the entire tent had taken on a toasty snugness. But, even so, the warmth of his room came as a pleasant surprise to his now bare skin.

Moving his good arm down towards his already stiff member, Zuko bit his lip in an effort to take things slow. Gripping the base with a soft grasp, like earlier, he pumped upwards, at a much more leisurely pace than the beat of his heart. As he reached the top of his erection, swollen and pulsing heavily against his hand, he twisted, bringing his arm back down impatiently.

He thought back, once again to Mai. Her squeals of longing when he would pump two fingers into her tight, throbbing heat. How her back would arch, and her hands would force his head down fiercely when he would lick up her slit, sucking lightly on that explosive bundle of nerves. When she would spasm around his cock, his mouth licking around her hardened nipple, as she screamed his name on the brink of orgasm.

His fist reached the purpled head of his member once again as he ran a finger over it, spreading the clear liquid that had been released. He twisted his hand back down to the base, licking his lips in satisfaction. Grunting, Zuko shuddered, and his grip clenched. His eyes shut, and he swallowed forcefully, trying to elongate his intimate moment.

Again, his imagination raced, and he recalled one of Mai's many whimpers. However, this time, the heady, high-pitched cry came not from his ex, but rather from the Princess.

In his dream, her hair was wild, curling around her brown skin, as she rode the Prince. Each time she bobbed up and down, one hand massaging the same perky, plump breast he had felt earlier, the other rubbing quick circles around her ember.

Picturing his erection disappearing and reappearing from the slick, dripping pink lips of her sex made him buck his hips up through his grip, his motions becoming swifter.

"Fuck," Zuko trembled, knees jerking outwards, when a flash of blue crossed his mind. Hooded eyes, lit with fire and lust, rolled back in her head as she bounced on him.

With three rapid jerks, Zuko grunted, a mix of panting and groaning, as he came. His hand pumped a few more times, steadily, until he collapsed backwards onto the bed. Quivering, the Prince was too stunned to remove his fist from his limpining member. Instead, he inhaled sharply, his mind dizzy and head pounding. Two fingers massaged the bridge of his nose.

Had he really just orgasmed to the thought of the Chief's daughter? The girl who had just tried to kill him?

Zuko investigated the scene; his three layers of clothing strewn off in a laundry basket, bed covered with a sticky substance. Pressing his good arm down on the bed, he stood upwards, making his way over to the bathroom to get a towel.

Splashing his face with cool water, the Prince sighed. It had been an interesting first day.

* * *

 _Author's Note:_ _Muahahaha, good old Zuko and his "stupid, horny, teenage" self. Now, the fun starts. Tell me what you think of A'anik, or Kanna (lol, I love her), and how you guess the story will continue._

 _Also, oh my god, writing Katara in this story so far has been super fun. Of course, not a lot has been explained, so don't be alarmed if you're confused (it should be cleared up...evenutally) but she's my favorite character ever, so._

 _Andddd I'm planning on updating this much quicker (based on reviews, ofc!), but I'll definitely have an update on my other story, "Love Games" (which is all smut) tomorrow._

 _Look forward to some sparring, sassy Toph, and a whole lotta lovable, awkward Zuko._

 _Thank you readers! I love you!_


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